


They're Singing Deck The Halls (But It's Not Like Christmas At All)

by sidium



Category: Captain America, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Fluff, Homesickness, M/M, Pre-Slash, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidium/pseuds/sidium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmases are different than Steve remembers and he tries to get a handle on it, but frankly, it's not that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're Singing Deck The Halls (But It's Not Like Christmas At All)

If you had asked Steve Rogers, before he'd met Tony Stark, what he thought Christmases at the Stark Tower were like, he would've given you descriptions of lavishly decorated rooms, more expensively decked out than anyone else in New York, with gold decorations everywhere, almost disgusting in it's decadence.

Now, having met Tony Stark, joined the Avengers, moved into the newly renamed Avengers Tower, Steve sees he was kind of right. Steve glances around the living room. Supposedly, everyone got their own floor when they moved in, and they do spend time in their own spaces, but somehow Tony's floor turned the communal gathering area.

Which was freshly decorated for the coming holidays. By Peppers directions.

Steve has to admit, it's beautiful. He was right about expensive. He wondered if the decorations made it all the way into the million dollar price point, or if they had settled somewhere in the hundred-thousands. And he was right about lavishly decorated, although it hadn't really made it's way to disgusting. Pepper's tasteful choices glow in the room, from the 8 foot, posh Christmas tree, decorated with silver and blue ornaments, in the middle of the living room; to the matching wreath over the fire-place, it was breath-taking.

Steve stares at the room for several long minutes. This year, he's already seen more outrageous Christmas decorations in store windows than he'd ever had in his own home, and the style of everything was so different than what he remembered of home. It was beautiful, yes, and almost alien. 

Steve wonders how many times Tony will threaten to rip it all down, with no intention of following through. He'd heard Tony complain several times about Christmas and decorations, and how Pepper should completely ignore the entire occasion; how he'd pay her extra to do so. He'd also seen Tony grin, ever so slightly, when Pepper told him it was all going up whether he appreciated it or not. He was confident in believing the decorations were safe where they were.

He glances around the room again, remembering why he'd originally come in.

"JARVIS, where's Tony? He said he'd meet me here." Steve asks the ceiling. Everyone teased Steve for talking to the ceiling as though it contained JARVIS, but as far as Steve was concerned, JARVIS was a person like everyone else, and attempting to address him directly was a small respect he could show.

"Mr. Stark is currently on his way here. He was momentarily distracted by the arrival of Mr. Barton and Master Thor. They will arrive shortly." JARVIS respondes efficiently in his crisp voice, and Steve nods.

"I guess I'll wait then." It's akward. Steve had been in the room before. Hell, he'd slept on the couch more than one occasion when insomnia struck and he'd wander in. Those nights, it was unpredictable who'd be there. After spending so much time in there with any, all or a combination of his team-mates, he normally felt comfortable in the room. Now, he almost feels as though touching anything in the pristine room would violate it, so he steps into the kitchen. Just as he taken a bottle of water from the fridge, he hears them exit the elevator.

He could hear Clint and Thor arguing about something, rather loudly, as per usual when dealing with Thor.

"-doesn't matter what the kids in the cartoon did, Thor," He hears Clint say with exasperation, "caroling is not really as popular as they make it out to be."

"Yeah," Tony's voice is laced with amusement as he speaks, "If you did it, you'd get arrested for public creepiness."

"But why?" Thor bursts out, "I've heard several people here in your realm speak of this activity; why would everyone be so deceptive, if they had no true intentions of doing such a thing?"

Steve grins a little to himself as he opens his water bottle and takes a sip. He may be lost sometimes, but Thor is right there with him.

"Because it sounds good." Clint said, "It's a nice idea, and people used to do it, but after a while, it just got... weird."

"Who knew that people didn't like strangers just showing up in their front yard and singing to them?" Tony asks in mock surprise, "JARVIS, where's Steve?'"

Before JARVIS can answer, Steve pushs himself away from the counter he'd been leaning against and steps into the living room. "I'm right here."

"Ah, Steven," Thor smiles brightly, "may I ask a question of you?"

"Uh, sure."

"When you were younger, did you go out and take part in the tradition of Christmas carols?"

"Not really, no." Steve almost feels bad about his answer, but it's true. Not many people he knew of ever did, and his health issues kept him inside all through the winter.

"Sorry, Muscles." Tony says, clapping Thor on the back and stepping away. Clint snickers quietly and sits down in the living room, completely unperturbed by the decorations in the room; picking up the remote and flipping through channels. Thor simply stays where he stood and looks mildly lost.

"There are so many traditions in this realm passed down from Norse tradition," Thor says, sadly, glancing around the room. "Your tree, your wreaths, even the day on which you celebrate originated with my people. I was so pleased to see they had survived the passing of time. I do not understand how any of these sacred traditions could become unfit." 

Steven feels his chest tighten slightly. Great. Even Thor seems to have more in common with modern society than he does. Steve suppresses a sigh.

"I don't know what to tell you," Steve says, keeping his tone light and trying hard to mask his sudden, unexpected hurt.

"Nay, you need not say anything." Thor says, smiling weakly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have made a promise to visit Jane today."

"Yeah, of course." Steve says, nodding. Thor gives one last longing look around the room, and leaves gracefully.

Suddenly, Tony is at his side, holding out a small, thin silver tablet.

"What's this?" He asks, taking the tablet from Tony and inspecting it.

"It's a Kindle." Tony answers. "You mentioned something the other day about books to Pepper and she came back, told me you needed one of these. I don't know, I'm just the messenger, apparently."

"What does it have to do with books?"

"Well, you hold down that button at the bottom..." Steve presses down the small button on the bottom edge, and the screen fills with book titles, "and when you press on a title, it will display the book. You tap the edge of the screen to turn pages."

Steve taps at the book at the top of the list, not paying attention to the title, and watches as the first page appears. "Wow."  
"Yeah, I wanted to make you a Stark-book, much more advanced, but Pepper said it was best to start simple." Tony said, as Steve experimentally started touching the screen to see what else it would do. "Feel free to explore it, if you break it, I'll either fix it or just buy you another. I'll show you how to add books later."

"You should put a bunch of Christmas stories on there." Clint says, devious grin on his face, before he turned back to TV, "Maybe Cap here would like to read the touching story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

"What's a Grinch?" Steve asks, brow furrowed.

"He's a mean-spirited... thing that lives up in a cave," Tony explains, not even looking at Steve, instead messing around, tapping at the cell phone in his hands, "He tries to steal everything from the people who live in the village at the bottom of his mountain, so they won't celebrate Christmas. They wake up Christmas morning, everything's gone, they're happy anyway, the Grinch is changed forever, yada-yada, it's all quite touching, really."

Steve gets the feeling the story has a little more detail than that, but he's not gonna ask.

"It's a classic," Clint pipes up from the sofa, and Steve can't stop a flinch. If things that were released years after he was frozen are old enough to be considered "classic," what does that make him and the Christmases he had as a kid?

Oh, yeah. Out-dated.

Steve sighs. "Thank you, Tony. I appreciate the gift."

Tony looks up from his phone and gives Steve a small grin, "I consider it less of a gift and more like, modern education."

"Swell," Steve says, ignoring the snigger from the sofa, once again feeling far too old, "I'm going to go out for a while." Tony looks at him with a mildly concerned expression, but shrugs his shoulder and Steve tries to get out as quickly as he can without actually running.

He hits the button for his floor in the elevator and waits. Trying to get his mind off of everthing by toying with his Kindle. By the time the elevator reaches his floor, he's figured out how to turn it on, turn it off, change the font, change the devices name, and put a passcode on it. (It's name is now Book. Steve figures he can change it in the future.) He was too intimidated to try to do anything else.

He gently sets the Kindle down on his table by the elevator and grabs his coat. Walking has always helped him clear his mind before.

\-------

Four hours later, he's sitting on a bench in Central Park, feeling more disconnected from the world than ever before. He missed his family, his friends and how he remembered Christmas. For every one Christmas-related thing he'd encountered that was familiar, there would be five that were brand new or had changed too dramatically to help.

Now, he sits, trying to beat down this cold feeling that wasn't causes by the slow snowfall.

He watches as people walk their dogs, and chat away on cell phones as they walk; children attempting to catch snowflakes on their tongue and make snowballs with the scant amount of snow that stuck to the ground.

He finds himself staring at a crack in the sidewalk, watching the snowflakes melt as they hit it. Sometimes, he feels like he can actually handle the gap between what he knew and what he knows now. Sometimes, he even likes it here. But right now, he's feeling more homesick than he has in a long time.

Steve glances up just in time to see Tony sit down next to him. He doesn't say anything, just sips the coffee in his hand and for a few moments, they sit in silence as the city moves around them. Finally, Tony clears his throat and speaks,

"So, gonna tell me what's wrong?" He asks, and Steve briefly considers saying 'no.' He doesn't want to talk about it, but ever since Loki (and the brief exchange of apologies after), Tony has been more helpful than most, so it seems rude to dismiss him so quickly. Steve continues fiddling with the loose thread on the end of his coat sleeve. Tony, amazingly enough, just continues to sip his coffee, and people-watch, as though Steve weren't even there. It helps, somehow. Takes the pressure off.

"I don't know." is Steve's answer, quiet and unsteady.  
"Don't know what's wrong, or don't know if you'll tell me?" Tony asks, smirking at Steve a little, and Steve shrugs. Tony nods, and goes back to watching a mother help her little girl tie her shoes. Steve inhales and starts to speak, unsure of how he could explain himself.

"Before... before the artic, we didn't really have Christmases, in the army. For obvious reasons. We'd sit around and tell stories of Christmases at home, and the traditions our families had, but it's not like we'd set up a tree or anything," Steve sighs, breath coming out in a ghostly fog. Tony takes another sip of his coffee and turns to Steve, watching him fidget as he tries to talk.

"But growing up, it was different."

'How?' Tony prompts, and Steve meets Tony's eyes just long enough to see genuine interest there, not patronization or boredom.

"How do you think?" Steve says, only a little sarcastically. Tony smiles, "I have a few ideas, but tell me anyway." Steve rubs his eyes.

"My family, we weren't... we weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination, but... Christmases were good. They were quiet and peaceful, and we didn't have a lot of gifts. Sometimes, there weren't any, but there was always a lot of family, and friends and food.

All our family would come over, and we'd spend hours eating and talking. We'd play games and laugh and it was good."

He smiles at the memory, of full houses and full stomachs and equally full hearts. His smiles slips into a frown as he speaks.

"And all that's gone now. All of it."

Tony sets his now empty, coffee cup on the ground and sits back, still intent on listening to every word Steve says.

"Things... Things are just so much different now. It's Christmas, but at the same time, it's not, you know? Everything's loud, and bright and-and showy." Steve rubbed his eyes, "I went into a toy store this afternoon and I could barely breathe. Everyone thought I was so lucky when I got a bike at fourteen. Now, there's so much... everything. Everywhere. Everything's changed so much." He says, and gives a deep sigh.

"It's... just so different. Thor's people practically invented Christmas. The Norse God has more in common with all of this than I do, and he's from another realm. We didn't even have a tree until I was seventeen. It- it's swell that people can give each other so much more than we got when I was little, and things have gotten better and happier, but... I don't even recognize Christmas carols anymore."

Tony nodded. "Seventy years of music, it changes." He said with a teasing tone, trying to get Steve to smile.

Steve looked at him with a kind of muted sadness. "I recognize some of them, so it's not so bad. I'd never heard the one with the woman telling Santa everything he should bring her. That was new." He said, smiling just a little, trying to find some levity in the situation.

"Santa, Baby." Tony says, smiling slightly.

"What?"

"The song." He makes a vague gesture with one hand, "It's called Santa Baby, it's considered a classic now, but thats'... not really important." Steve sees Tony wince at the word 'classic' apparently having caught Steve's reaction to the word before.

Steve huffs a slight laugh, and stares at Tony blankly for a moment. He's always so unsure what to think of the man sitting next to him.

"It's just hard. Being so out of place and feeling like... everything moved on and left you behind and when people ask you what you want for Christmas, you can only think of one thing." He says, that sad expression returning and his eyes locked onto the sidewalk in front of him.

What do you want, Steve?" Tony asks, quietly, sending a silent little prayer to anyone listening that there's a chance in hell Tony could give it to him.

Steve is silent for a long moment.

"I want to go home." Steve whispers, and there's so much heartbreak in those five words, Tony immediately knows he's not talking about the Tower. Tony feels his chest ache in sympathy, and he has the unexpected urge to just wrap Steve in a hug and whisper promises he know he can't fulfill.

Tony clears his throat, unsure of how to continue. He's never been good at this emotional stuff, especially not related to Christmas. Here's Steve talking about how his Christmases were nothing but family, and for the vast majority of Tony's life, it's been the exact opposite.

"I'm sorry." He finally says, quietly. Steve turns his head and stares into Tony's eyes. He's never heard Tony say those words. Not sincerely, anyway, and it's mildly disconcerting. "I'm sorry you can't have that."

Steve nods, and turns back, closes his eyes to help fight against the sudden burning of tears behind them.

"But, it's not a total loss." He says hopefully, and Steve huffs a disbelieving laugh.

"You said your Christmases were about family, right?" Steve nods, and Tony continues, "Well, you didn't lose that." Steve wipes the wetness from his eyes with the back of his sleeve and shoots Tony a look that says he's crazy.

"I know we're not your actual family, I'm not completely insane." He says, and Steve grins a little, ''But hear me out. Family is the people that care about you, want to see you happy, and that you're stuck with, whether you like it or not, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose." says Steve, still a little unsure.

"Well, we may not be ready to pose for a potrait any time soon, but the team; we do care about each other, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's not much, but despite all the show and glamour of the holiday season, you do have a small, crazy family waiting for you back at home that does care about you and, dare I say it, we may even love you." Tony says, laying a hand on Steve's back. "That's got to count for something."  
Steve stares into Tony's eyes for maybe a little longer than strictly necessary. He can't have home, but maybe he can have this.  
In a moment of blind bravery, Steve takes Tony's hand off of his back and tangles their fingers together, pausing for a second to see if Tony will pull away, but he doesn't. Just gazes at Steve, looking a little surprised, and a lot pleased.

"Yeah, it does."

Tony grins and tightens his hold on Steve's hand, and they sit quietly for a while, watching people as it begins to grow darker and the snow stops falling.

The cold feeling doesn't completely fade, but it ebbs a little as a new warmth travels from Steve's hand and settles in his chest.

This is his first Christmas out of the ice, and it's definitely different.

But maybe it's not so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> The mention of Thor's people actually inventing Christmas? Not wrong, actually. A lot of our modern day decorations came from Norse traditions. If you're interested, you can read more here: http://skandland.com/vikxmas.htm


End file.
